


Neapolitan

by MammothAmaryllis



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Everyone kinda falls in both categories at one point or another sooo yeah, I have no idea how it got so damn long, I tagged both for d/s because I'm honestly not entirely sure where it falls, I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'm Shield Trash, Light Dom/sub, Not even theyseemerollins, Okay might be a tiny bit of plot (if you squint), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Roles are flexible, The Shield and Reader foursome that no one asked for, because it is basically nothing but smut, but that's what happened so here it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-24 22:58:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13821249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MammothAmaryllis/pseuds/MammothAmaryllis
Summary: Fun fact: Neapolitan ice cream's alternate name is Harlequin ice cream, in case y'all had any doubts about where this was going. Ain't no goddamn vanilla in this manwich, though. Flavors are cinnamon (yes, I'm referencing The Apple Pie Incident), espresso (aka No Chill), and rocky road (you're in for a wild ride).





	Neapolitan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theyseemerollins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyseemerollins/gifts).



> This is the surprise birthday twin to 'On The Run,' though they are set in completely different universes. Or not if that's what you want. You do you, honey boo.
> 
> As usual, this story grew out of musings on messenger, and I am not sorry for any of it. All thanks to one horrible Shield picture and my and trash-bestie's filthy minds.
> 
> Also, huge shoutout to TheRoarOfAtlas for 'Bookish.' Because that started me and my bestie down this path to the inevitable.

“Get on your knees,” came Roman’s commanding rumble from over your shoulder. So close to your ear that you shivered. Heat pooling in the pit of your stomach.

You obeyed. There was something about his voice, when it dropped into that deeper register, that melted your opposition. Even though you were surrounded, you felt safe. Protected. That is until Seth smirked down at you while your knees bent to the floor. A spark of irritation lit in your belly. You’d pay him back for his arrogance.

Before you could form a plan—that wouldn’t get you punished by Dean or, more likely, Roman—the latter was stepping around in front of you, his fingers carding through your hair. You shivered again. As you leaned into his touch, your head dropped forward. He paused to Seth’s right, let his fingers trail down over your jaw.

Tipping your chin up, he murmured, “Good girl.”

Your throat bobbed, your mouth gone dry.

Seth snickered. The bastard _knew_ what Roman saying such things did to you, and he _always_ prodded you until you broke. Until you did something that earned a punishment in the form of seemingly endless teasing. That was why you now found yourself on your knees. At their mercy. Because Seth had laughed a grating “Always is” at the first flush that had risen to your checks when Roman had asked you if you were ready for them, wet and aching.

Your hand had fisted in Seth’s hair, and tugged. He had hissed, but even that had morphed into a harsh laugh and a snide comment about being overeager. After a conspiratorial glance, you’d shoved Seth into Dean, who’d happily caught Seth’s arms and held him prisoner for you. But then Dean, ever the wildcard, had sabotaged your moment by poking you in your side as you’d moved in for the strike.

You three had ended up tangled together, limbs flailing as Roman chuckled in the background. After a brief struggle, you’d managed to pin Seth to the wall, with Dean’s help of course. Both of you catching a wrist and pinning it down.

Seth had grumbled, “Let me touch.”

You’d leaned close. “Make. Me.”

So, Roman had made you. Laying a hand on the back of your neck and rumbling, “Baby girl” in a warning lilt that had sent anticipation thrilling through you. You’d gone limp, letting him back you up a few steps before that simple command to kneel had made your knees buckle.

Dean whined. The sound small, barely there, but clear enough in the quiet of the house. His hands clasped behind his back, fingers no doubt clenching with the effort of not touching you. He was a very affectionate person, always touching. Fingers brushing over skin, forehead leaning into shoulders, lips pressing into the crowns of heads at the oddest times.

For being so demonstrative, Dean was good at waiting to touch _you_ during these forays until Roman said so. As long as his hands were busy clutching each other. Seth, though, was horrible at waiting. Not because he couldn’t, but because he didn’t want to. He wanted to torture you. Yet always managed to skirt that fine line between inadvertent disobedience and outright defiance. That fine line over which you always threw yourself headfirst after Seth had gotten you into a lather.

A sudden thought hit you. What if you acted first? You knew that if Seth baited you and you rose to it, Roman—and Seth—would punish you with drawn out torture before letting you get off. But what if you ‘innocently’ baited Seth? That was a bit more ambivalent. Maybe you could even get Roman to punish _him_.

You reached out slowly, shyly. Barely able to keep the smirk from you lips. _That_ would definitely earn you an excess of sweet torture. All three watched your tentative fingers stretch for Seth’s hip, Seth most riveted.

Just before you made contact, you added a hesitant “Can I?” for good measure.

Seth nodded his head with enthusiasm. But you looked to Roman for definite permission. He rumbled his approval, the sound coming from deep in his chest. Your throat bobbed again.

Seth’s smirk had slipped away when you had first reached out, but now it was teasing at the edges of his mouth. Your hands alighted on his belt, started to work the buckle loose. His hands cupped yours. The supple material of his gloves nearly forced a groan huffing from your lips. You loved the feel of them on your skin. Wanted him to touch and tease everywhere.

“Not so fast, sweetheart,” he said, lifting your hands to the series of straps and buckles crisscrossing his chest. “You gotta remove all this first.”

You echoed Dean’s earlier whine, yours tinged with even more frustration. That brought Seth’s smirk back full force in tandem with an easy chuckle.

“Gotta work for it, sweetheart,” he mused.

You set to work, but one of the buckles caught and the strap attached to it refused to budge, refused to loosen so you could pull it free. You huffed in annoyance. A damn buckle was _not_ going to ruin your plans.

“Having troubles?” Seth asked, his tone nothing but conceited.

You flicked a glare his way, subdued enough that it wouldn’t turn this into a torture session with you laid out beneath all three of them. You’d much rather get off multiple times with each one. Seth sniggered, only to suck in a breath when your teeth snapped down on the strap and yanked. When that failed the third time, you found a louder whine slipping free, your eyes rising in an entreaty.

“We got you, baby girl,” Roman soothed, his fingers slipping back into your hair, dipping down to the back of your neck. The roughened pads of his fingers dug into your tensed muscles, easing the strain from your body. Warmth flushed down your neck and spine, spreading to the rest of you, so that even the tips of your fingers were tingling.

His hand gripped the back of your neck, guiding you to your feet. He turned you to face Dean, pushed you into his waiting arms. Your forehead dropped to Dean’s shoulder as his hands settled on your sides, cradling you. His lips pressed into your temple. Seth had stepped back, working on divesting those million straps himself.

Roman’s fingers dipped back into your hair, massaging your scalp, brushing your hair off the back of your neck. His lips teased across the exposed flesh. Sighing, you let your lids flutter, let another whine slip free. You felt his smile before his mouth closed over the vulnerable skin, teeth biting down with just enough force to send a shudder through you.

You arched back into his chest, gasping, your eyes clenching shut, face turning fully into Dean’s shoulder to hide the flush that had taken over. It was almost too much. Just the two of them. Dean was chuckling in your ear, his lips teasing the sensitive shell. Biting and kissing, Roman was marking up the back of your neck with a single-minded intensity. But then Seth slipped his hand across your stomach, teasing his fingers beneath your pants, and you felt like you’d passed ‘Too Much’ five exits ago.

Despite the absence of his gloves, Seth’s added touch obliterated the last of your clinging restraint. You quivered, your knees buckling from the promise of those questing fingers. Dean’s hands cradled you tighter to his chest. Roman gripped your hips to steady you, not pausing in his pursuit to claim the entirety of your neck and shoulders. After forcing your fingers to relax from where they were clenched in Dean’s vest pockets, you shakily reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck. Desperate to feel stable on your feet.

Anchoring yourself to Dean proved counterproductive. For now his hands were free to roam, and roam they did. Seth’s hand was still dipping in and out of your waistband, flicking over the dip beside your hip bone, so Dean’s palms smoothed down your sides and cupped your ass. Dragging you against his front as Seth mouthed over your shoulder. You sucked a breath as Dean’s arousal pressed into your stomach.

Panting, you kept your face hidden in his chest. Having someone to hide against was at least a little steadying. Even if he was whispering filthy things in your ear. How he wanted to spread you out under him. Make you writhe with just his mouth. Fuck the daylights out of you only for you to ask for more, faster, _harder_.

You felt yourself curling into him, needing to protect your vulnerable points even as your body begged for him to do everything he was growling in your ear. Seth pressed closer, his own arousal nudging your hip. You curled deeper into Dean’s chest. Only for Roman’s hands to slip around your upper arms and pull you back against him, exposing you.

“No hiding from us, baby girl,” he murmured in your ear, amusement evident in his tone.

“Yeah, no hiding allowed. Remember?” Seth ribbed. His hand cupped your jaw as he captured your lips in a bruising kiss, as Dean knelt and rucked up your shirt.

Your eyes clenched shut, more from Dean mouthing over your stomach than from Seth’s teeth scraping against your collarbone. Though both sensations in tandem were nearly overwhelming. Roman’s jaw pressed against your cheek, his stubble abrading while the longer strands of his goatee tickled. The duality was interesting to say the least, confusing to your already strained senses.

“Open your eyes, baby girl,” he ordered.

Tears prickled your eyes, as your arousal became a swirling mass in your stomach. Opening your eyes would end you.

“Yeah, kitten,” Dean hummed. “Look at me.”

 _Fuck_. Looking at him would be even worse than just opening your eyes. Dean had unbuttoned your jeans and was mouthing down over the front of your panties.

“Look at him,” Seth urged, as he rucked your shirt up higher and cupped your breasts.

 _Nope nope nope_. You couldn’t. You would explode just from seeing Dean kneeling with his face between your thighs. Just from Roman’s erection brushing against your ass. Just from Seth palming your breasts, thumbs teasing over your nipples.

You tried to cross your arms over your chest, overcome but unwilling to tell them to stop. They would without question, if you asked them to—all three had insisted on a safe word when this had all started—but you didn’t want their caresses to end. Why couldn’t they just let you hide behind closed eyes? Why couldn’t they just let you fall into the sensations? Why did they have to demand you _look_ at them when you just wanted to melt into a puddle under their touch?

Roman tsked in your ear, shifting to link your arms with his. He pulled you flush against his front, your arms trapped between your bodies. Desperate to find some kind of grounding, you curled your fingers into the hem of his shirt.

“Open. Your eyes,” he demanded.

You barely managed to force your lids to part. They fluttered, half-closed, but apparently that was enough for your tormentors. A whimper ripped from you. As Seth shoved your bra out of his way and latched onto your left breast. As Dean dragged your jeans down to your knees and pressed his face to your core. Moaning, you narrowly kept your eyes from clenching shut as you watched them.

Seth was merciless, licking and sucking and grasping. Dean was playful, but no less torturous, blowing a breath across your aching center, nipping your inner thigh, teasing his finger across the wetness soaking through your panties. He grinned up at you before ducking his head back down. Your instinct, due to your somewhat timid nature, was to pull away from the torment, but that would only push your hips further into Roman’s. So, you quaked, dying sundry deaths, your head laid back against Roman’s sturdy shoulder.

He pressed a kiss to your jaw, his fingers kneading into your tensed muscles where he cradled your arms. “You’re doing so well,” he praised.

You almost started babbling, a torrent of “please” and “oh god” and “yes” begging to be set free, on repeat, until you came. But you clenched your jaw shut, huffing through your nose, swallowing all the sounds desperate to break loose, to be heard. Your pride couldn’t handle being reduced to such pleading. The embarrassment would have you spontaneously combusting.

Roman had to know, though, because he smirked against your cheek and pulled his face back so his mouth was right on your ear. “Don’t hold back. Tell us how you feel. Tell us what you want. Whatever you want. Scream it.” He chuckled when you shuddered. “Want Dean’s fingers inside you? Want to fuck them like the wanton we all know you are? His mouth sucking your clit until you can’t stand because you’re coming so hard?” His hands eased down your arms, fingers teasing over your clenched knuckles. “Want Seth to slip his gloves back on and caress every inch of your skin? Get you all worked up until you just _can’t_ anymore? Stroke your throat as he buries himself in you over and over until you’re screaming his name?” He pressed his jaw against yours and turned your head ever so slightly. “Want me to bend you over that desk? Grip the back of your neck and just _pound_ into you until you’re nothing but a shaking mess?”

His heated words—his voice dropping back down into that dangerously low register—had you gasping, barely holding onto your senses. Seth sucked harder. Dean mouthed across your entrance. Hissing through your teeth, you clenched your jaw tighter, your eyes slipping shut.

“Gonna be like that, huh?” Roman rumbled, his lips lifting in a grin. “What’s my name?”

You almost choked, almost screamed, “ _Why?_ ” Your teeth ground together, breath huffing out of you at the teasing demand in his voice. You’d played this game before. They wouldn’t win this time. You’d _sworn_ that to yourself the last time you’d broken. And the time before that as well. With what Seth and Dean were doing, saying Roman’s name would prove loud. Defiance sparked in your gut because you _knew_ that was their plan.

That defiance died at the next swipe of Dean’s tongue. He’d shoved your panties to the side, exposing your center. Legs quaking, you were unable to do more than whimper—a sound that sounded suspiciously like ‘Ro’—as one finger slipped inside you, quickly followed by another. Your hips canted forward. Dean teased your clit with his tongue, pumped his fingers once, twice, then stopped.

His grin was sinister when he pulled back to look up at you. “What’s his name, kitten?”

All you could do was whimper.

Dean ducked back in, his lips and tongue attacking your clit. His fingers pumping harder, faster. You whimpered again, managing to form Roman’s name with the shuddering sound.

Seth gripped your chin and demanded, “Louder.” Just as he flicked your nipple. Just as Dean curled his fingers inside you and sucked your clit.

“ _Roman!”_ you cried, body arching, head thrown back, your orgasm exploding through you with exquisite force.

Seth nibbled on your collarbone, knuckles teasing down the line of your throat. Dean slowed his fingers but kept pumping them, easing you down from the high. Aftershocks rolling through you, Roman cradled your weight against him, your legs pleasantly limp.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip, teasing your ear.

You slouched forward, quivering, delirious. Seth shifted to the side, nipping over your shoulder. Dean pushed himself to his feet, cupping your jaw and beaming at you.

“Look at you, kitten,” he crooned. “All flushed and shit. Beautiful.”

He stepped in, guiding your head to his chest, hand smoothing over your hair, mumbling soothing words. You could merely pant into his chest. The feeling of his palm petting the top of your head, his fingers tucking your hair behind your ear, settled you. Your breathing began to slow, your body calming.

When Roman leaned down to mouth over the back of your neck, you shuddered, vaguely aware just how tempting your exposed skin must have been. For _him_ —the one programed to protect and sooth—to be the one to dive back in so soon after such an intense orgasm. Just the thought of breaking his implacable fortitude excited you. His teeth digging into your skin sent arousal shooting straight to your core.

Groaning, you ground your hips back into his. He could punish you for this, but you no longer cared. You were desperate for friction, feisty now that you’d had a taste. He grabbed your hips and dragged them back against his, grunting as he thrust.

Seth chuckled, drawling, “Someone’s getting angry.”

You weren’t entirely sure whether he meant you or Roman, but again you didn’t really care. Especially once Roman’s hand slipped between your thighs. They clenched on instinct. But Roman had already hit his mark, his fingers working their magic in the limited space. Seth smirked and knelt before you, his hands dragging down your thighs and gripping your knees.

He eased you back open. You gasped once Roman’s fingers were set free. Your thighs jerked against Seth’s grasp, but he held firm, held you open for Roman to torture. You hissed your frustration, your body shaking as it began to build toward another orgasm. Roman bit down on the muscle between your neck and shoulder, a growl rumbling in his chest.

You dropped your forehead against Dean’s chest, but not even he took pity on you. He’d unhooked your bra, slipping his hands up to cup your breasts, but now he brushed his fingers over your nipples. Ever so slightly. Not nearly enough as you wanted, _needed_.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please, what?” he asked, pecking a kiss to your temple. “You gotta _say_ it.”

You only managed to groan in response. You _couldn’t_ say it. Not while the three of them were reducing you to nothing but whining hisses.

You felt Roman’s lips quirk in a grin against your ear, even before he asked, “Whose name next?”

Dean’s mouth split open in glee, his tongue lolling out as he smiled. Seth smirked against your shaking thigh.

Roman swirled his fingers around your clit. “Your choice, baby girl.”

At your wordless keen, Seth groaned, rising back to his feet. He and Dean leaned close, temples pressed as they stared intently at you. You had to close your eyes again.

“Which one, sweetheart?” Seth slipped a hand around your throat, fingers pressing just enough with the promise of more.

“C’mon, kitten, choose.” Dean dragged his fingers through your hair, cupping the back of your head, forcing you to look at them.

“They’re _waiting_ ,” Roman warned, fingers circling tighter.

You jerked, practically sobbing, “I don’t _know_.”

“Alright. Both then,” Roman replied, in that commanding rumble, punctuating his words with a thrust, his palm grinding over your mound. His other hand gripped your hair, tilting your head back to expose your neck again.

You expected Roman’s teeth, but felt Seth’s full beard as he mouthed over your throat, nipping and licking a trail down to your collarbone. Then Dean was sucking on your other collarbone, pausing just long enough to grin at Seth.

“First one to make a hickey wins,” Dean said.

Seth groaned and nodded, his lips and tongue and teeth more fervent on your skin.

Dean bit down, and you gasped, your hands reaching up to claw at each of their backs, nails digging into Seth’s undershirt and Dean’s vest. Seth shivered; Dean hummed in approval. Roman thrust against you again. Your hand abandoned Dean’s vest for the more vulnerable target of Roman’s thigh, nails digging in a little harder with each thrust, as his rocking ground you against his hand. Over and over. Building your release so that you teetered on that delicious edge.

Seth slipped his hand between your thighs as well, hissing as your nails raked down his back. Reaching past Roman, Seth barely dipped his fingers into you, teasing with the shallowest strokes imaginable. They _knew_ each time you were about to come, easing back just enough so your release wavered out of reach. Arousal throbbing in near every muscle.

Growling your frustration, you shoved your hand down the back of Seth’s pants, grasping his ass and jerking his hips against you. He merely snickered. Fingers working slightly deeper. You whimpered, begged, a haggard “ _Please_ ” ripped from you.

Roman pulled back long enough to say, “Too many clothes.”

They all stopped at once, leaving you quaking and desperate.

The keening whine that left you would embarrass you on a normal day. But you couldn’t _care_. You were _so_ close.

Seth took pity, but only because such frenzied sounds always stroked his ego so damn well. He knelt and dragged your jeans the rest of the way down your legs. Dean had stepped back and was ripping off his vest, then his shirt. Roman’s hands glided up your sides, grabbing your shirt to lift it over your head. You shivered in delight, only to whimper as he twisted your shirt to trap your arms behind your back.

“No, no, no,” you begged. “ _Please_ let me touch.”

Dean, kneeling next to Seth, bit your hip. You jolted.

“It’s like a game of Operation.” He grinned up at you, digging his thumb into your waist, just above the point of your hip. “Hit the right place and she just _writhes_.”

“ _Please_ ,” you implored, your eyes clenching shut.

“You can touch,” Roman allowed, dragging your shirt free of your arms. “But only if you behave.”

“What’s not behaving?” you panted as Seth rose from his crouch. As your hand reached for the stroke of dark hair that trailed under his waistband. Unable to ignore it any longer.

Dean grabbed your wrist. “That.”

You whined his name, a frantic plea.

He glanced at Roman. “That count?”

Roman shrugged. “Your call, Uce.”

Dean smirked, eyes flicking back to yours. “Say it again.”

Anger burst through your desperation, _because_ of your desperation. “ _Fuck you all_.”

Dean jittered, as if your snarled words set a fire under his skin, his eyes blown wide.

“That’s definitely _not_ behaving,” Roman chastened, pulling your wrists back behind you.

“We should punish her for that,” Seth added, puffing a breath in your ear.

Shivering, you whined, back to begging. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just so close and…. I’m _sorry_. Please.”

But your apologies failed to placate them. They all had stopped touching you, except for where Roman held your wrists. Seth—the horrible bastard—had stepped back, teasing you as he stripped off his pants oh so slowly. Easing his belt buckle open. Popping the belt free of each loop. Flicking the end out to snap just shy of your stomach. As he ticked the zipper down, tooth by tooth, you tried to curl into yourself. Roman gripped your elbows and dragged you back against his front, forcing you to stand straight, exposed.

Dean grinned at your whimper. “All you had to do was say my name, kitten.”

You mustered up a glare for him, pitching your hips defiantly against Roman’s.

Roman’s deep chuckle made your insides clench in expectation. Even as he shook his head in exasperation. “Filthy, filthy woman.”

“Now you’re _really_ in trouble, kitten.”

“Oh, yeah, sweetheart, _big_ trouble.”

You threw your head back against Roman’s shoulder, spent in frustration, forcing yourself to stop moving. Roman slipped one arm around your waist to anchor you to him. Which you silently praised. Until Dean dropped down to kneel in front of you again. Until Seth curled his fingers in your hair and forced you to look down at Dean.

Heat flushed over your neck. “Dean,” you squeaked.

Seth leaned closer. “What was that, sweetheart? Can’t hear you.”

Dean’s tongue swirled around your clit, bringing your arousal raging back.

You jerked, crying his name.

Seth licked just under your ear, then hissed, “Louder.”

You were sure you were going to pass the fuck out.

Dean wrenched your thighs wider, fingers gripping with delicious intent. The flat of his tongue dragged over your sex, achingly slow, only for his teeth to nip, his lips to suck, causing a rush of sensation.

“ _Dean!_ ” was ripped from you, half-scream, half-curse.

But Dean pulled back just before you tipped over the edge. You were too flustered to do anything more than huff and pant and whine in wordless pleas.

But they waited, until you calmed down, the relief of release receding yet again. Leaving your core burning with need. Pulsing in near pain.

Roman murmured, “Good girl.”

You sighed heavily, sagging against him in defeat, your whole body hot and aching from the loss.

“Now, what’s _his_ name?” Roman prompted, nodding his head at Seth. Who gifted you with that smarmy smirk he loved.

You figured the teasing torture couldn’t get any worse, so you mustered up the strength to smirk right back. “Asshole.”

A cackle burst from Dean. You even felt the edge of Roman’s mouth quirk up. Seth’s eyes narrowed, darkened. You were sure he would start yelling, blustering all around the room, if you weren’t careful. His glare promised retribution. You decided you didn’t want to be careful.

“Well, I said it,” you snapped. “So c’mon. Get on with it.”

His lip pulled up in a sneer. “I think it’s time we take advantage of the bed.” He reached down and grabbed his discarded belt, smacking it against his palm before flicking his eyes back to yours. “It’s got a sturdy frame.”

Vaguely you wondered, _What the fuck did I just do?_

You were more than certain Seth would show you how much of an asshole he could be. Roman hauled you up and plunked you down on the center of the mattress. Dean watched with gleeful intensity, hopping around to the other side of the bed. You were surrounded again. Roman to your right; Dean to your left; Seth poised at the foot of the bed.

Seth moved first, climbing onto the mattress with deliberate slowness. Each hand found a wrist and dragged them together, lashing the belt securely. Lifting your arms over your head, he handed the belt off to Dean. Who hastily bound it to the headboard, forcing you to your back. Seth straddled your hips, hands splaying out over your sides as a devious smirk curled his lips.

You squeaked his name.

He paused, that smirk somehow widening. “Nah,” he said. “Not buying it.” He chuckled and leaned closer, his lips on your ear. “Don’t sell out, sweetheart. Buy in.”

His lips found your throat again. Little nips and licks at first. His beard dragging over your skin as he worked toward your mouth. You turned your face into his, silently demanding he kiss you. He nipped your chin, then _finally_ caught your lips with his. He licked into your mouth, only to draw back and trap your bottom lip between his teeth. Eyes finding yours, he let your lip slip free with a lurid pop.

“Seth,” you whispered, eyes slipping closed.

“You gotta say it _louder_ ,” Dean sang, forehead pressing against the side of yours. “We can’t _hear_ you.”

“Seth,” you whimpered pitifully, “please.”

“Again,” Roman demanded.

You shivered at the command, but you couldn’t say anything more, couldn’t do more than swallow.

Roman’s hand snaked into your hair, forcing you to look at him. “I said, ‘ _Again_.’”

Your hips bucked of their own accord.

Seth laughed, pitiless. “I’m waiting.”

“Please, _Seth!_ ” you shouted, half-stammer, finding your voice despite the aching arousal choking you.

Roman rumbled his approval against your throat. You could feel his feral smile. But you couldn’t take your eyes off Seth’s self-satisfied smirk. As he slid down your body and dipped his head to bite your inner thigh.

“ _Yes_ ,” you hissed. “Again.”

Dean laughed. “Finally telling us what she wants.” His hands skimmed over your breasts again. You clenched your eyes because you just fucking _couldn’t_ watch them.

Roman nipped your ear, then asked, “Who do you want first?”

You felt like screaming, a sob bubbling up your throat. You choked it back. Just barely.

Roman tightened his fist in your hair, turning you to face him again. “I asked you a question,” he rumbled. Just as Seth bit your inner thigh again.

“ _Ssseth_. I want Seth.”

Roman smiled, brushing a kiss over your jaw and bringing his lips back to your ear. “How do you want him?”

You shuddered.

Seth crawled his way back up your body, nipping your chin. “Yeah, sweetheart, how do you want me?”

Groaning, you mumbled, “Everywhichway.”

Dean canted his head. “Don’t know that position.” He pecked a kiss to your temple. “Explain it for us, kitten.”

You threw your head back in agony.

Seth decided to be—what was for him, at least—merciful. “Is it like this? With your hands bound and me above you? You squirming as I fuck you?” His hands dragged down your sides. “Or is it on your knees with your ass in the air? Me sinking into you from behind?” He sucked at your pulse point. “Or is it you on top, _taking_ what you want? Riding my cock to completion?”

The belt strained against the headboard. “Oh god.”

Dean murmured, “You gotta choose, kitten.”

You were a boneless heap. Probably couldn’t even sit up if you tried. Your thighs rubbing together in a futile attempt to alleviate the ache.

“Sweeeetheart…”

“The first way,” you gasped. “But please untie me, _please_.”

Roman chuckled. “Since you asked so nicely.”

He reached up and your hands were freed. Instantly you grabbed for whatever was closest of Seth. Hands scrabbling over his head, through his hair. Arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders, holding on for dear life. Your body arched up against him, just wanting to be close, grounded.

He reached around to grab your hands and pin them to the bed.

“ _No_ ,” you whimpered.

“No, what?” he asked. “Don’t want to play anymore?” He moved to sit back. Your legs shot up to clasp his waist. He snorted. “Little help, guys?”

“ _No_ ,” you whined. As Roman and Dean each grabbed an ankle and pinned your legs to the mattress.

Seth snickered, pecking a kiss to your chin. “If this isn’t what you want, then what is? What do you want me to do, sweetheart?”

You huffed, shaking your head. “ _Please_ , Seth.”

“Please, what?”

“Fuck me,” you whispered, barely audible.

“Come again?”

Dean sniggered. “That’s what she’s hoping for.”

You were so desperate you couldn’t even manage a glare in response to Dean’s smirk. All you _could_ manage was a pleading stare for Seth. He merely raised his eyebrows, waiting.

“Please,” you muttered. “Please…fuck me.”

He rocked his hips against you. “Like this?”

“ _Yes_.” You nodded frantically, your voice cracking. “ _Please_.”

His mouth caught yours, tongue demanding entrance which you happily obliged. His hands closed over your breasts, shaping them in time with the rock of his hips against yours. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders again. Roman and Dean released you. Your legs shot up to grip his waist, hold him against you. With a breathless chuckle, he reached down and grabbed your thigh. Hiked it higher, his elbow cradling your hamstring.

His teeth caught your bottom lip again, as he lined himself up and pressed forward. You gasped a breath, clutching him wherever you could, with whatever you could: arms, legs, hands, heels. Only to whimper at being filled— _finally_ —as his hips hit yours. Before you could take another breath, he was moving, thrusting with resolve.

“ _Please_ ,” you panted.

His other arm slipped down to your opposite leg, his palm pushing against your inner thigh as his forearm leveraged against your hiked thigh, widening the space between them. Allowing him to bottom out with each snapping thrust. You sucked a breath, nails digging into his back, dragging down inch by inch in time with his movements. He hissed near your ear, and buried his face in your neck.

Gripping his ass, voice hoarse, you begged, “ _Please_.”

He forced your thigh higher, shifting the angle just enough to hit you right where you needed him. Your toes curled as you keened your release, your back arching off the bed, your breasts crushed to his chest. He groaned in your ear, thrusting once, twice more before spiraling into his own orgasm, hips jerking against yours out of rhythm.

Drained, you collapsed back on the mattress, panting. He tried to rise above you, but his elbows buckled, unable to maintain his weight. Roman was there, grabbing his shoulders and hefting him sideways so he didn’t collapse atop you. Seth sucked air, his chest huffing with each desperate breath.

“ _Fuck_ , sweetheart.”

You hummed your agreement, still boneless, lids fluttering as you stared at the ceiling. Warmth pumped through your veins, the afterglow wrapping you in its delicious embrace, dragging you down toward sleep.

Dean’s face appeared above you, his grin lazy but still so full of promise. The bed dipped as he scooted closer. “You still with us, kitten?”

You nodded. Despite the sheer effort it took.

He snickered. “I don’t know. Seem a bit out of it.”

You reached out, flopping your hand in his lap, brushing your fingers down his forearm. “I’m good. _So_ good.”

“I’ll bet you are. Seth practically fucked you into the mattress.”

You hummed once more in agreement. A giggle tickled the back of your throat, bubbled out of you.

“C’mere, kitten,” Dean murmured, gently rolling you onto your stomach.

You caught sight of his tented pants as he moved you. Despite your exhaustion, your center clenched with desire. But he didn’t shift to remove his pants.

“I’m ready,” you mumbled. “Prepared. Go ahead.”

“Hush,” he soothed. “We’ll get to that. Once you can move again.”

His knuckles kneaded into your lower back. You arched as much as your weary muscles would allow. Roman dipped his fingers into your hair again, started massaging your scalp at the base of your skull. Humming was all you could manage, it seemed. This time in contentment.

Dean’s knuckles moved lower, working the tension from your spine and hips. Roman’s fingers slowly worked higher, blunt nails teasing over your scalp every so often. Your breathing slowed, lulling you into a half-conscious state.

Once Roman had the entirety of your scalp tingling, his hands dropped down to your shoulders. Dean began to knead up your spine, palms spreading out to your sides with each movement. Without much thought, your hand quested over the sheets to Dean’s knee. Roman worked his hands over your shoulders, paying special attention to the dip between them.

You arched when his knuckles began kneading between each vertebrae, starting at the base of your skull. When Dean mirrored him at the base of your spine, the two of them slowly moving to meet in the middle, a whine slipped from you. As arousal began stirring once more.

“Easy, baby girl,” Roman murmured. “Just relax.”

Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one who felt like breaking apart from nothing more than a massage. He wasn’t the one who had been pushed over the edge twice already, not including the way they’d edged you so mercilessly. He wasn’t the one who felt excitement rising at the thought of falling over at least twice more. You found your other hand reaching out for him, your fingers curling in his belt. He’d discarded his shirt at some point, and you enjoyed the feel of your knuckles brushing against his skin.

Their hands met. Dean’s thumbs swirling on the sides of your spine. Roman’s knuckles working outward. You found your hips lifting off the mattress, arousal drumming in your veins. Dean eased your hips back to the bed. Roman’s palms slid out to span your sides, fingers pressing tiny circles over your ribs. Your nails dug into his belt, into Dean’s knee, a louder whine slipping free of you.

“What do you need, kitten?” Dean asked, stretching out beside you, fingers dancing up your spine.

“You.”

“Shit, yeah?” He looked somewhat staggered.

You nodded, pulling yourself up on your hands and knees. You were proud when you only wobbled slightly. Hand on his chest, you pushed Dean onto his back, dragging one leg over him to straddle his hips.

“But I wanna be in charge,” you murmured.

His hands alighted on your hips. “You sure you can handle me?” he teased.

You smirked, languidly rolling your hips. “Always.”

Dean groaned. “Alright, kitten. Do your worst.”

“Gladly.”

Seth gave a low whistle from where he was stretched out to Roman’s far side. “Makes me wish she’d ride me.”

“You had your turn,” Dean grumbled, head dropping back as you ground down over his erection. “Not my fault you got her so strung out all she could do was cling.”

“I mean, I wasn’t complaining. Just greedy.”

“We know,” you quipped, side-eyeing him as you shifted back far enough to unbuckle Dean’s belt.

Roman laughed, his fingers carding through your hair as he leaned in to capture your mouth with his. Like he couldn’t control himself for a moment. Dean whined beneath you, hands nudging yours out of his way as he unzipped his pants. With reticence, Roman released you. He stared in your eyes for a long moment, before he turned you back to the man spread out beneath you.

Dean was trying, rather unsuccessfully, to get his pants over his hips. Giggling, you planted your hands on his chest and rose onto your knees, so he could shuck his pants and boxers in one go. They still ended up tangled around his knees, Roman having to jerk them loose. Since you and Dean were too busy snickering into each other’s mouths.

Finally free, he gripped your hips and thrust up against you. You moaned but slipped out of his grasp before he could repeat the motion.

“Bad boy,” you chided, a grin stretching your lips.

All three of them groaned, Dean’s most pronounced. Seth mumbled, “ _Christ_.”

You swiveled your hips, elated by Dean’s gasped “ _Fuck._ ” Wrapping your hand around his length, you teasingly pumped once, twice, before you paused. He thrust his hips into your grip. You released him and sat back, raising a reproving brow.

His head fell back with a distressed huff when his gaze met yours. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

You gripped his jaw. “You better.”

You heard Roman shift, and glanced over to find him rearranging the front of his pants. Snapping your teeth brought his eyes flicking up to yours. You bit your bottom lip and swiveled your hips once more. His lids lowered as Dean stuttered, “ _Please_ , kitten.”

You deigned to look back down at Dean. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Only to drag his lower lip between his teeth when you gripped his hair and tugged his head to the side. You dove down to bite and lick over his pulse point, felt it jumping beneath your lips and tongue.

“ _Kitten_ ,” he pleaded, hands gripping your thighs.

“Please, _what_?” you teased.

His hips bucked, but he caught himself and forced them back down. He gritted between clenched teeth, “Fuck. Me.”

Planting one palm on his chest, you rose above him. Gripped his length and sank onto him. You both groaned in unison, heads falling back as you joined. Hips settling over his, you rolled forward once, twice, then stopped. Reveling in the whine that tore from his throat.

“Stop teasing, baby girl,” Roman warned.

Blatantly ignoring him, you dug your nails into Dean’s chest and clenched your inner muscles, rising nearly all the way off, only to sink back down in one long, languid slide. Dean clenched his eyes shut, moaning.

You heard Roman growl, knew he must be scowling. His voice was gravel when he said, “Dean.”

A wicked smirk spread over Dean’s face. Anticipation sparked through you. His fingers gripped your hips as he snapped his up to meet yours. You were so close already your walls fluttered. He thrust again, and you ground down to meet him, swiveling your hips just how he liked. His next thrust hit just right, and you could only gasp as your orgasm roared through you. His hands tightened on your hips, dragging you down as he thrust up into you again. You slumped forward, hands still planted on his chest but elbows buckling like Seth’s had.

“That’s right, kitten, come all over me.”

You whined, letting yourself fall forward, face buried in his neck, as your orgasm just kept rolling.

“So close,” he mumbled, hips still working.

You clamped your mouth on his throat and bit down, clenching your walls around him.

“ _Fuck!_ ” His hips stuttered to a stop as he came with a harsh cry, his arms crushing you to his chest. Holding you to him as he rasped through his release.

Once his breathing began to settle, you released his throat, tongue laving over the red marks left behind. You buried your face in his shoulder, huffing, smiling at the shivers working through his body. The shivers _you_ put there.

As you languished in your newest flush of afterglow, you recognized the sound of a zipper, then clothes heaping on the floor. That could only mean one thing, and you relished the thought. A pair of hands gripped your waist, easily hauling you up and off Dean’s prone form. A tattooed arm wrapped around your middle, anchoring you back against Roman’s chest. His teeth nipping your neck, his lips grazing your ear, he rumbled, “My turn, baby girl.”

His large hand landed on the base of your spine, caressing up, up, up to the dip between your shoulder blades. Slowly pushing you down over a pillow. You snuggled into the fluffy comfort, lifting your hips in a silent plea.

“You finally going to behave? Or am I going to have to make you?”

You gave a jerky nod.

He chuckled. “Both then?”

Another, more frantic nod.

A satisfied growl rumbled in his chest, his hand drifting higher, fingers wrapping around the back of your neck. You whimpered as he lined himself up, your core still quivering with aftershocks. With a single, sure stroke, he sank home, grunting as his hips bumped yours. Your toes curled again, another whine working its way free.

He started slow, as if he knew just how achingly sensitive you still were. Each stroke kindling the embers left simmering from your last orgasm. Your breathing picked up again. Each huff sounding more and more like a desperate keen the deeper Roman thrust.

You clasped the pillow to your chest, burying your face in it, delighting in the sensations pooling in your core. Roman’s other hand skimmed down your spine to your lower back, leveraging your hips, deepening the angle. On his next stroke, he hit your spot, dragging against it, and you jolted. Your walls clenched around him. His hips stuttered, rhythm breaking, only for it to quicken.

You were now grasping that pillow for dear life. Biting into it with the effort of stifling your moans. Because you knew he was losing his composure, and if you made a sound, all hell would break loose. He hit that spot again. Your walls clenched even tighter. He bowed his head against the back of your neck. You could feel him straining to keep pace, to not just plow into you until you couldn’t move. You could hear the tension in his panting grunts.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he groaned, and that single word seemed to open the floodgates. “So damn tight. Gripping me. Can feel every little jolt. Every flutter and spasm. Agonizing. Perfect.” His words tumbled together, shifted into a growl, the sound vibrating down your spine. “Wanna fuck you straight through this mattress and into the floor, baby girl. Fuck you until you can’t move, can’t do anything but lay there and _take_ it, and beg for more.”

You couldn’t hold back the desperate sound that had been building in your throat any longer. It burst free. Roman’s answering snarl sent molten arousal to your core.

“So fucking wet,” he growled, teeth scraping over your skin. “Drench me you filthy, _filthy_ woman.”

Seth and Dean groaned in unison, one on each side of you. You were sure they were staring, eyes glued to your flushed skin, ears pricked to your frantic sounds. Roman leaned back up, the hand on your neck dragging through your hair, grabbing a handful to twist your head to the side.

“ _Look_ at me,” he demanded.

Your eyes popped open, to find his dark irises boring into you. He leaned down, draping his body over yours, his mouth clasping your skin just below his hand, his eyes never leaving yours. His teeth dug in, and your lids fluttered dangerously low. His tongue laved across the bruises that had already been raised, his lips and teeth painting yet another.

Your back arched, tilting your hips even further, deepening the angle once more. On his next thrust, you pleaded, “ _Harder_.”

He snarled. His grip on the back of your neck tightened, pinning your shoulders to the mattress, as he straightened and started pounding into you in earnest. All you could manage was to clench your eyes shut and listen to his harsh panting and filthy words. “Gonna make you come, baby girl. Gonna make you come so hard you scream. So hard you’ll still be quaking _hours_ from now.”

“ _God_ yes,” Dean groaned, just before his lips captured yours in another kiss that stole what little breath you had.

“ _Fuck_ yeah,” Seth hissed, his fingers snaking down between your quivering thighs to circle your clit.

You could merely pant, and keen, and sob. You could feel your orgasm barreling down on you, were prepared to fly off into the goddamn sun, which was probably a million degrees cooler than your body right now.

But then Roman’s fingers pressed into your scalp. “Not yet, baby girl. Not until I _say_ you can.”

You whimpered, clenching your whole body against the spasms starting to flutter through you.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Roman snarled, hips snapping against yours with unforgiving abandon.

Seth quickened his fingers. Dean’s tongue thrust into your mouth. Roman drove into you, relentless.

Just when you were sure you couldn’t take anymore, were going to explode regardless of the punishment that would follow, Roman rumbled, “ _Now_ , baby girl.”

You splintered apart. Screaming. Every nerve ending ablaze. Dazedly aware of Roman growling as he followed right after. His rhythm faltered, slowed, but he kept rocking, drawing your orgasm out for as long as possible. Every movement sent another wave of sensation through you. Even just the way his chest shuddered against your back with each gasped breath.

You gulped one breath after another, body tingling all over. It took a minute before your release subsisted into aftershocks. He shifted just enough to slip free, forehead pressed to the back of your neck, fingers absently massaging your scalp. Your thighs gave out, and your hips collapsed to the mattress. Exhaustion throbbing through every muscle.

“You okay, baby girl?” he panted.

Humming your bliss, you nodded. Lids so heavy you couldn’t pry them open to save your life. He pressed a gentle kiss to your spine. You arched into him, body barely able to lift from the bed. You felt his lips spread in a smile. Dean flopped onto his stomach, palm patting the top of your head, lips pressing gently against your forehead. Seth snuggled his chin onto your shoulder, nosing against the back of your neck.

Roman struggled to lift himself, his forehead dropping into the curve of your lower back, his chest settling over the swell of your ass. His lips pressed a kiss to your hip bone, fingers tracing idly down over your thigh. His weight felt right, like an anchor holding you steady as you drifted into a half-sleep cocooned between all three, Seth’s and Dean’s arms crisscrossed over your shoulders.

When you awoke, bleary, sometime later, Roman had climbed beneath you. Your body spread out over his, head cradled to his chest. Seth’s and Dean’s arms still crossed over your shoulders. Dean’s forehead was pressed into the crook of your elbow, your fingers splayed over his hair, Roman’s arm slung around his shoulders. You felt Seth’s breath puffing warm over the back of your neck, his head propped behind yours on Roman’s inked shoulder. Curling your fingers where you gripped Seth and Dean, you burrowed deeper into Roman’s chest. Exhausted but satisfied. Safe and sated.


End file.
